


la foschia d'inganno (The Mist of Deceit)

by ch1ps0h0y



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Betrayal, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch1ps0h0y/pseuds/ch1ps0h0y
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well." – Josh Billings</p>
            </blockquote>





	la foschia d'inganno (The Mist of Deceit)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written based off of prompts for a fanfic competition, but was not entered into the competition itself.
> 
> \+ Plot theme prompt – Deceit  
> \+ Quote prompt – "Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well." – quote by Josh Billings

She was the girl whom no-one wanted. A meek, shy, frail little wraith of a girl no internal organs and one eye whom only the most callous would ignore. Abandoned by her parents, unable to make friends, she was a burden expected to die upon the operating table.

 

He was the boy who walked through dreams. A mischievous, smiling charlatan bound by a past he would never be free from. Shunned by the lawful, feared by the rest, he was a failed experiment that indulged in macabre sins.

 

\--------------

  
As master and servant they found it hard to separate their selves. She was as mistrusted as he, and the Arcobaleno even coaxed the others into believing it. They wanted her to join them, she could see it in their eyes. They wanted to her to be part of their laughing, smiling group and call her friend. They wanted to take her away from her master, to whom she owed her very life.

 _Let them_ , he said when she brought it up. She needed better company than a teenage boy trapped behind glass and suspended in water.

They thought she was unaware of his manipulation, of the lies and deceit which he spun into a cocoon around him until there was nothing left to see but what he wanted them to see. She saw more with one eye than they could see with both of theirs. There was hate in him, a burning desire for revenge on the wrongs done to him, and then there was also the little boy whom he had once been, scared yet determined to forge a path through a world that had scorned his existence.

She pitied him, the boy trapped inside silk wrappings stronger than steel yet light as air. The fetters which prevented him from flying was the ugly, selfish realm of humans. They wouldn't let him change, wouldn't let him metamorphose into a creature more beautiful than this ugly shell he couldn't break free from.

One day she would cut him out of it and see for herself the beauty of his wings. Her wish was not made out of blind devotion, as she knew others saw it. She knew that when they looked at her they saw a fragile girl dependent upon a cruel master who by his own admission would cast the useless away like old, broken toys. But he had _mended_ her.

Silly Boss and his friends - they understood so little that it made her want to laugh.

'Siblings' could not begin to describe the nature of their symbiotic relationship. They were closer than siblings, closer than lovers. The intimacy of their contacts were beyond the comprehension of other humans who did not share the same bond. Though she gave her body to him on occasion it was nothing like the invasion that others took it to be. She stepped out and he stepped in. It was that simple.

She came to view her body as a waypoint, separate from the two souls which it housed. It was her means to contact him, his means of manifesting in the physical world when all he had was an illusion of reality. She could not die, he told her, if she could separate soul from body. He taught her how to but it was an abstract teaching at best, and when she attempted to leave the fleshy shell, a deep irrational fear drove her back. He was not unsympathetic when she spent the next few nights screaming herself hoarse from waking nightmares.

That experiment was never tried again. Yet his lessons continued to push the boundaries of the unknown. Dark secrets gleaned from the turning of the Samsara that only he was privy to allowed him the ability to surpass the limits of the human body.

She shared in little of her master's disgust for the powers and skills that made him superior. She had not experienced the agony of the operating knife slicing into skin without proper anaesthetic. Hers was a scar on the psyche, left ragged and badly healed, and it numbed her to the callousness of the human race. The older she grew, the more she could let her apathy show and have others mistake it for maturity.

She was not like her master's apprentice, oblivious to the wider world. She felt and cared where there was something to feel and care for. Otherwise, it was easier to be left alone.

 

 

On the day that they released him, she was the first to greet him at the gates. She waited impatiently for his escort to help him limp to the threshold, then she darted forward to catch him when they let go. The guards ignored her glare and turned their backs, the heavy iron gates sliding shut between them. Her master tried to stand with her help only to sag on to her shoulder.

He could not speak, for years of silence had robbed him of his voice. Yet there was no need.

His touch was as gentle as the caress of his thoughts against her mind. It was warm, not cold like the waters of his lightless prison. The scent of his skin was real, clean with the faintest of sweet undertones that made it a pleasure to wrap her arms tightly around his frail waist.

She was crying. She felt embarrassed but he merely wiped them away with a tender thumb and kissed the blush back into her cheeks. Then he smiled and she could not stop the tears from falling, streaming down her rose-pink face, which she buried into his shirt. He held her there until those tears ceased to flow, and even long after when all she wanted was comfort. In his arms she felt safe. In his care she entrusted herself entirely. He would not abandon her.

 

 

The two of them stood by Boss' side at the final battle. Their forces were weakening, falling back to their last fortress, the Vongola's headquarters and the eight Guardians who defended it. Both he and her master gave her a smile before taking a ready stance along with the rest, preparing to meet their foes, waiting for the order that would unleash their Flames and their fury upon the enemy. Cloud, Rain, Storm, Sky, Lightning, Sun and Mist.

And her, standing beside Boss as his protector, together with the Storm.

 

 

_Now._

 

 

She turned. Boss' mouth had begun to open, to give the order for his Guardians to attack. An order choked prematurely by blood that trickled thickly from his mouth, down his chin, down his throat.

The tines slid smoothly past his ribs, like they belonged near his heart.

She beheld his shocked, doe-like eyes for an instant before they were replaced: amber to deep blue and blood red with the razor sharp smile of the devil. Faster than anyone could react, faster even than the swordsman who was standing too far away, the Storm who reacted a second too late...

 

 

_Thank you._

 

 

...too slow to stop the bullet that took her life.

 

 

\--------------

  
She was the girl whom everyone ignored. A meek, shy, frail little wraith of a girl with no internal organs and one eye that only the most callous would exploit. A faithful servant to her boss and a loyal Guardian to the Vongola Family, none doubted her while their eyes were fixated upon her traitorous master, her shadow, her guide - and that was their undoing.


End file.
